When Dancers Collide
by RagingTiger
Summary: The Bust A Groove and DDR characters face off against each other, while Heat and Emily secretly find they have something going for each other


*Characters are the property of Konami and whoever owns Bust-A-Groove  
  
Teams Rhythm Rebellion (DDR characters) Emily, Rage, Emi, Akira, Konsento, Boldo, Charmy, Astro Generation Groove (Bust-A-Groove characters) Heat, Strike, Shorty, Hiro, Kelly, Bi-O, Pander  
  
"Come on boy? Tired already?" mocked the man as he busted into yet another combination of breaking moves and pop routines.  
  
Heat only snarled at the man's comment, and launched a combo of his own: two reverse flairs, topped off by a one-handed handplant. The crowd's cheers echoed throughout the club and his teammates jumped up and down excitedly as the pulsing dance music continued.  
  
It was midnight at Club Dragon, a popular nightclub in the downtown Game District. The club was the scene of nightlife for much of the city, and although no dance contest was scheduled here for tonight, the two contestants had obviously decided to battle it out on the dance floor.  
  
Heat launched into yet another combo, sweeping both legs under him, and then dropping into a reverse spin. Landing facing the crowd, he rolled both his shoulders and then spun into the air in a reverse 720 air kick. The crowd screamed in amazement at this move, and Heat turned to face his opponent as the song ended.  
  
The man openly glared at Heat, then retired to a nearby booth along with a group of other club-goers. Heat waved at him, and then wiping the sweat from his face, retired to a nearby booth where his friends cheered him.  
  
"Wow, Heat!" shouted Shorty in excitement. "That was amazing."  
  
"Aww, that was nothin," chimed in Strike, as he leaned backwards, his pleated dreads swinging to and fro. "You shoulda seen the routines ole Heat busted out over at the Third District Club."  
  
Heat sputtered as he tried to finish his martini. "That routine? It was back when I was just learning how to dance. Hiro here took the cake on that one."  
  
"Huh? Who said my name?" asked Hiro, as he stopped ogling his reflection in the nearby windows long enough to pay attention to the conversation.  
  
"Damn, boy. Can't you stop payin attention to yo' damn looks for a second?" asked Strike with a note of minor disgust in his voice. Hiro only flashed him a bright perfectly even smile in response, causing Strike to shake his head, saying "I rest mah case."  
  
As Heat laughed and reached for another drink, a hand slapped the table in front of him. Looking up, he saw it was connected to a tall man with spiked red hair and clad in jeans, a red shirt, and a camouflage vest. With a smug smile on his face, Heat asked, "Something I can do for you, pal?"  
  
"I'm no pal of yours," snarled the spiky-haired man. "I saw those moves you busted on the floor, and I've heard of you. You're that ignorant little punk who's been going around the dance scene, fancying you can beat anyone you please. I'm sick of hearing it."  
  
Heat only looked over at the guy and gave a smug grin. "And your point is?"  
  
The man's eyes glinted dangerously. "Don't you get smart with me, boy. If you want a piece of me, come get some." Out of the corner of his eye, Heat saw Strike start to rise from his seat, and he pushed him back down into the booth. Heat's blood was starting to rise in his veins, and his cocky attitude swung into play. With a smug look on his face, he said, "You look like a smart fellow and I don't want to insult your intelligence because you obviously know talent when you see it. But, chump, I'm sure whatever "skills" you've got aren't suited to teach a five year old."  
  
"What'd you say?" snarled the man as he reached over and grabbed Heat's jumpsuit by the collar. "I'm gonna kick your."  
  
With a loud cry, Strike grabbed a beer bottle from the table. Raising it over his head, he struck the man over the head with, shattering the bottle with a loud crash. The man's head wobbled a little, but his senses pulled together soon enough, and he swung out with a left hook, catching Strike square in the jaw. Strike rolled with the punch and swung out with his own fist, knocking the guy sprawling into a group of club- goers.  
  
Strike waved his hand a bit. "Bastard's got a hard skull. Stung my hand a bit."  
  
"Konsento, Astro, Boldo! Get out here!" shouted the man, as he climbed to his feet. From a nearby booth, stood three figures. One was a blue robot with a jet pack fixed to its back, one was a tall man in a green form-fitting spacesuit, and one was a tall black man in a purple suit with an afro.  
  
Heat stood from the table, his hands balling into fists as he faced his four opponents. Behind him, Strike stood, pulling a somewhat reluctant Hiro to his feet. Heat turned to square off against his attackers, putting his fists up as he extended his hand in a "come get some" gesture. Just as the man was about to rush in, a slim hand extended in front of the two fighters, stopping them in their tracks.  
  
The hand belonged to a tall blue-haired woman, whose hair flowed down her back like a waterfall. Her clothing was a white and red t-shirt, blue flare jeans, and a pair of white Adidas shoes. She was also wearing a white visor with the emblem, "DDR Crew" emblazoned on it. Her beautiful face wore a look of concern as she turned to face Heat's attacker.  
  
"Hey! Break it up Rage! What the hell are you doing?!"  
  
"Back off Emily," snarled Rage, as he tried to shove her arm out of the way. With a quick movement, Emily's hand came up, striking Rage across the face. He fell silent at once, as Emily berated him.  
  
"No! You back off Rage! One of these days, that temper's gonna be the death of you! Then what do I tell Emi? Huh? Get outside!" she shouted as she shoved him out the door. "You three!" she shouted, pointing at Konsento, Boldo, and Astro. "Get out here! Let's go!"  
  
The DDR team tromped out into the night, and Heat heard the sound of a car starting and then pulling away from the club. His shoulders sagged in relief and he slumped back into the booth, along with Strike and Hiro. Shorty sighed in relief and asked Heat if he was all right.  
  
"I'm fine," said Heat, shrugging it off. Picking up another drink, he tossed it down and then stood up. "Where you goin?" asked Strike, as Heat flashed him a bright grin.  
  
"Can't let the dance floor get cold, my man!" shouted Heat over his shoulder as he headed out to the dance floor. As the DJ spun tunes on his set, Heat launched into yet another routine of his own, this one a combination of K-pop and breaking. The crowd cheered and Heat grinned as he pulled off a flashy backspin. He was in his element. 


End file.
